Don't Close Your Eyes
by Blackrose Kitsune
Summary: Let it be me. Don't pretend it's him, in some fantasy. Just once, let yesterday go.  Shounen-ai   One-sided H/K   K/? later
1. The End Where We Begin

_**Don't Close Your Eyes**_

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter I: The End Where We Begin<span>_

* * *

><p>I remember our first night together vividly…<p>

_ Hiei had decided to stay in Makai with Mukuro at the close of the Demon World Tournament. And though I would never peg the little bastard hiyoukai as one to fall in love, there was something about the way he carried himself around the sole female Lord of the Makai that downright puzzled me. Frankly, I was sure that Hiei's choice to stay behind wasn't based on romantic interest; the vibes between he and Mukuro may have been tense, and I'm pretty sure they shared something more than I ever hope to (or even want to) understand, but Hiei was not in love with the demon Lord. I knew that Hiei's had been a simple decision. He had detested Ningenkai from the very beginning, and now, free from Koenma's rule, it was obvious that he would return to his preferred realm._

_ Kurama, I thought, had taken the news well. For the longest time, I sensed there may have been a thing__between the cunning fox and the little bastard hiyoukai. Of course, because I was never really that interested in finding out one way or the other, I never really broached the subject with either of them. Really, it didn't so much matter with whom they chose to do what. They were reliable partners to have at my back in a fight and, though Hiei would never admit as much, loyal friends. Nothing beyond that mattered. And when Kurama took such a nonchalant stance at the news of Hiei's departure, I assumed the suppositions I had made about the two of them were wrong – chalked up the feeling to the knowledge that they had known and fought with each other far longer than with the rest of our pell-mell entourage and therefore were just more in tune with each other. Or something. Either way, when Kurama seemed so perfectly unaffected by the news, I berated myself for over-thinking and grossly over-imagining things about the two of them, and left it alone._

_ When Kurama approached me at the end of that sad day, I didn't really think too much about it. Even though I had over-imagined Kurama's relationship with the ill-tempered bastard, they had still been close friends and teammates. No doubt Kurama was feeling a little depressed at the loss of one of his companions. I suggested we go for a final stroll around the neglected, barren wasteland that was Makai before our departure in the morning._

_ As we wandered aimlessly across the dank landscape, the horizon blazing behind us as the torturous, demon sun set itself to slumber, we talked of Hiei: of how he had met Kurama and was hard-pressed to believe the little red-headed human was Youko, the Makai Thief of Legend; how Kurama handily proved himself to be that very entity; of years later when Hiei came to him again with the proposition of robbing Reikai blind, of breaking into the King's Vault, and stealing three certain artifacts; of their strained contract with Koenma to clean their slates and the grueling rebuilding of trust between them as they worked through what Hiei felt of as treachery from their last encounter… _

_ And as the night wore on, the sky ever-darkening, we came to stop to rest atop a lone, rough stone outcropping that gaped viciously from the cracked earth. I learned that the thing I had assumed about my two comrades wasn't so far removed from the truth._

_ Kurama explained that, in Makai, things were glaringly different. He likened relations between demons to be mostly like the outlawed practice of polygamy in the Human World. He acquiesced that while monogamy did exist in the Demon Realm, it was far more likely that a dominant being – and here he clarified that to mean male, female or 'other' (because much to my displeasure I learned that, sometimes you just can't make a distinction) – simply took up several 'mates' because instinct dictates that survival is based on one's progeny. And so, to put it bluntly, he had said, whoring existed with frightening regularity, and was born out of necessity. He explained that really, monogamy was a luxury that humanity, in its civilized period of quiet, could afford and Makai could not._

_ He went on to explain that, though he knew this was simply how the Makai was, in his years among the humans, and thanks largely to the love and devotion his mother had shown to his late father, he had come to prefer humanity's approach. And Hiei, particularly as a dominant type in his own right, preferred the methodology he had grown up knowing._

_ I remember shifting rather awkwardly in my seat on the jagged rock to face Kurama at the close of his explanation, and I remember the awkward stutter in my voice as I found the nerve to ask the question that would either confirm or deny my thoughts about the two of them. Kurama, for his part, was neither shocked nor repulsed by the question, which I was thankful for. In fact, his emerald eyes were startlingly clear in the dark night as they regarded me and my intrusive question. I remember the silence that quivered heavily between us for a long, painful moment as those somber eyes regarded me; remember feeling ashamed for having asked such a personal question of my friend – after all, what did it really matter what the answer was? But after a sudden moment, Kurama blinked and shook his head, and I remember even that as having been a subdued action. But he must not have felt the question to be a threat, because he answered it plainly, and the raw honesty in his voice stirred something deep within me._

_ Yes, Kurama, admitted – he and Hiei had indeed had relations. He spared me a telling of the more intimate details, for which I was thankful. But again, yes, they had had the thing that I had been guessing at. He also wanted to clarify, before he went further (if I wished him to, at all), that he was not ashamed of this fact.__I remember feeling stung by this admission, hurt that he felt he needed to say as much, like I would be one to judge him. But I just nodded silently in the dark, the revelation not really having the impact I long assumed it would._

_ Then, after an inquiring look he went on to say that, put it simply, he could not remain happy with the status quo. Namely, their casual thing had spawned in him actual romantic emotions towards Hiei. And when he felt he could no longer hold the truth in, he told the little bastard that he indeed had fallen in love with him. I remember feeling my heartbeat accelerate as he came to this point in his story, because I could already see where it was going, and sure enough he continued that Hiei had ridiculed him, accused him of losing his true identity within the mottled coils of his human robe, and fled._

_ I remember not being surprised by this, and Kurama admitted the same, saying he had expected no less of Hiei, really. But he felt that he owed the hiyoukai the truth, and felt he could no longer continue lying to himself. And here is where I remember thinking the story should be over – that Hiei's flight however long ago that night was, was the reason for the mixed signals I got from the two of them, was the reason behind my assumptions. It even explained why Kurama had handled his departure so nondescriptly. But Kurama surprised me by asking softly if I would like to hear how this doomed love story ended (his words, not mine), and I remember nodding without a word and laying a hand bracingly on his shoulder. I remember his sigh because it was a physical thing that I felt in my own core; felt how it was ripped from his very being, and how he sagged against the rough rock for support before finishing his story as it left his lips._

_ After a few weeks of painful silence, Hiei returned to him, showed up at his window, a shadow in the night, and asked to again share his bed. Kurama admitted reluctance at first – he certainly knew it wasn't any particular feeling of love that had brought Hiei back to him. He couldn't quite fool himself into believing so obvious a lie. But he couldn't deny a carnal craving, a longing for the little hiyoukai's touch. So he relented. And for a while— he admitted to me quietly, sounding utterly defeated— he was content again with their tryst._

_ But as these things tend to go, he added, his feelings had far from died out for the little demon and the nights became increasingly painful for him to bear. So he again approached Hiei with his true feelings, and was again rejected. At this point he put an end to their nights together; he told Hiei he could not carry on in this manner if there was no mutual affection shared. It simply hurt too much. Then he laughed— and I remember it being so painful a sound that it elicited a wince from me as he continued his sordid tale. Apparently, the very following evening, Hiei showed up again to tell him explicitly that he was sorry for causing Kurama any pain. The truth was that he harbored feelings for Kurama, too, but he just didn't know what to make of them._

_ Here, Kurama stopped, his voice steeped in pain and I remember telling him it was okay to just 'let it out', whatever that might mean to someone like him, but he just shook his head. He said he wouldn't regale me with tales of his stupidity in accepting Hiei again. But he would finish his story, if I didn't mind, if only because he needed to get it out and he needed someone to hear it and validate that his emotions weren't quite so astounding. I remember not quite knowing how to respond to that and just waiting quietly, ignoring the growing discomfort I felt at being seated for so long on the uncomfortable rock. He smiled thanks at me, but it was a feeble smile, and started the final chapter of his story…_

_ Everything he had just explained to me culminated this very evening, he explained quietly. When he had heard of Hiei's decision to remain in Makai it had been hearsay. He had gone to find the little demon himself for an answer. And Hiei had given him one. He said that yes, he had decided to remain in Makai, that it was right for him, and that he was sick and tired of the Human World and all its curious ways. He paused to sigh again, once more shaking his head, and I think I remember hearing him mutter something under his breath before adding that he stupidly asked Hiei to stay._

_ I remember hearing how his voice caught as he said the words, when he asked Hiei if, why if he loved him, he would leave him, when he knew he could not leave his human mother, his human life, so easily. Why, if he loved him, could he not endure the Human World a few short decades longer until all remnants of his human life had faded into nonexistence? I remember feeling nauseous at this point, utterly sick with seeing Kurama's pain so clearly, and I remember feeling him flinch as I clenched my fingers against his shoulder and whispered something indiscernible that may have been apologetic – that much I don't remember._

_ He went on saying that Hiei's decision wasn't the thing that hurt so much. Because really, he admitted with a hollow laugh, Hiei did not belong in our World. And they both knew it. We all did. The thing that stung, and here he moaned softly, as though reliving it caused within him some deep, visceral pain, was that Hiei had told him he had gone soft. Then, he admitted to having lied about his feelings for Kurama. He said that the only reason he came back, the whole reason he had lied, was because he knew it was the only way to keep someone as aged-old and powerful as Youko in his bed. The fact that his age meant he was 'good in the sack' (again, his words – not mine), was just a perk. The fact that Kurama so easily bought into his tale of confused feelings only went to show how far he had sunk in his humanity, how much of a disgrace he had become to his demonic heritage. The last thing he said before walking out on the conversation was "You make me sick," and then he was gone. And later that evening, as we were all assembled to bid him farewell— he admitted with a harsh, biting sort laugh, the kind of yelp a wounded animal might make— it was a matter of showing Hiei that he was stronger than he had been accused that he could stand there and indifferently say good-bye._

_ And then there was silence. Kurama just sat there, rigid, his form as stoic as the rock we sat upon, his hair the only vibrant thing to stand out at all as it danced, bloody crimson in Demon World's suffocating, dark night on the stale breeze. It's not that I expected he would burst into tears or anything so dramatic, because he is far too graceful for such a display, but that he remained so unmoved after his story… it was unnerving. I remember giving his a gentle shake with the hand I still had clasped around his shoulder, remember how the simple act seemed to rouse him back into himself, seemed to pull him from out of the recesses his mind had sunk into._

_ He smiled at me softly, and it was feeble, and his eyes were soft in the darkness. I felt his shoulder slacken beneath my hand as he exhaled shakily and apologized for having kept me so long. I remember assuring him that it wasn't any problem at all, that I was good to talk whenever he needed an ear, but I don't know if I perhaps just didn't sound convincing or if he really just thought so little of our friendship that he seemed in doubt. He thanked me in his graceful way, and it was almost like he was normal. Except his tone was flat, his expression too placid. And I remember that as he stood to leave I felt anger so unexpectedly vicious spiral up inside me that it sent me to my feet after him and I grabbed him by the arm roughly and spun him around._

_ He seemed slightly started as he spun to face me, and I remember a dull swelling of pride at having caught the famous Thief off-guard, but it was quickly replaced by the anger that surged in me. Even as he stared into my face, glancing slightly down because he does have a few inches on me, his eyes radiated nothing but emerald neutrality. I remember glaring up at him and asking what his problem was; remember practically screaming in his face in an attempt to elicit a more powerful emotion out of him. He just bit his lower lip, regarded me for a moment, and told me plaintively, "You are just like him."_

_ I remember stopping cold at this statement, the velveteen caress of his voice washing across me chased by the acrid sting of the accusation I felt in the words. Even then, as my eyes met his in anger, he only regarded me with mild interest. And though I remember this – remember it quite vividly – I still cannot say what made me do it. Perhaps it was reckless impulsivity on my part – Enma knows I'm known for acting without thinking. Perhaps it was a sudden need to disprove his words; prove instead that I was far better than he who he was accusing me of being like. But I grabbed him roughly by the neck of his tunic, saw him flinch as I pulled at the hairs grown long at his temples as they twined between my angrily clenched fingers and the fine material of his shirt. I remember words forming on my tongue, though I cannot now remember what those words had been, only remember wanting to spit them in his pale face._

_ But before I could get the words out, I felt his hands on either side of my face, his palms surprisingly soft and cool against my anger-heated flesh as he cradled my face between them. Battling confusion, I tried to make sense of the words scattered now on my tongue, willed them to coalesce into some solid sort of protest, but everything sort of just got lost. Then he kissed me, softly, between the eyes and whispered against my skin "It's okay." I remember releasing him at this, having been utterly confused, because, really? What the hell? It was a single fraction of a second, that soft, slightly moist contact of flesh on flesh, but it centered me somewhere, deep down. Because for a moment, I was left completely and utterly paralyzed and he used this time to move away from me, turn, and walk away. I remember watching him go and still not being entirely sure of what had happened but knowing suddenly, irrevocably, that something in our dynamic had changed, if only because I had determined at that moment to prove to him, somehow, that first: I wasn't Hiei, but that I was better than that, and second: that it wasn't okay… Whatever 'it' was..._

* * *

><p><strong>Standard Disclaimer: <strong>**All Yu Yu Hakusho characters are sole and exclusive property of Yoshihiro Togashi, FUNimation, and all other title holders. These DO NOT include me; I make no money from the nonsensical scribbles.**

___**Author's Ramblings**_: If I have any faithful fans left, you will know that yes, I've been gone for this site for an exceedingly long period of time. I cannot even promise that I will be back with any real regularity - however this story (which should have around 2 more chapters, and at least 1 more) should be finished, at latest by mid January. I've got the whole premise, I just didn't want to overdo it by writing too much when I've been gone so long. Realistically, I'm not to pleased with this; I think it reads rather messily in certain places. Still, I hope I've at least still got the feel or 'voice' of the characters somewhat down. Please, please, PLEASE let me know in the form off a review or something, as I could really use the feedback. Otherwise, Enjoi!

Thanks,

Blackrose Kitsune


	2. Vulnerable

_**Don't Close Your Eyes  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em><span>Chapter II: Vulnerable<span>_

* * *

><p>I watch him sleep beside me, laid out on his side and turned away from me, one arm curled under his pillow. Long carmine hair spills behind him haphazardly, cascading over the plumped edge of the pillow his face is nestled in. I am careful not to lie atop the spilled ribbons, should I accidentally snag a tendril and wake him. So few and far between are these times of quiet calm, undisturbed peace, that these moments between our separate awakenings are precious to me.<p>

Normally, he wakes before I do, preferring to rise with the dawn, while I will gladly (and have been known to) sleep away the better part of an afternoon. That is why these scarce moments of seeing him so at ease and vulnerable are so rare. I'm just never awake to witness them. But lately, dreams have been plaguing my rest; have been waking me in the small hours of the day and leaving me, too often, alone with my thoughts.

Soft murmuring draws my attention to him and I watch him shift, still lost in a sea of blissful unconsciousness, into a more comfortable position. He settles after a moment and I smile softly as I watch his breathing level out and I wonder if his incomprehensible mumble had been my name on his lips, if it was I who invaded his dreams. A small sigh escapes my lips at this thought – it is the same one that is cause for the dreams that chase me with more and more frequency from unconsciousness; it is the thought that woke me in the first place. And the acknowledgment sets my mind to wandering again...

* * *

><p>After he had vanished from my line of sight I found myself still firmly rooted to the spot, unable to move despite the increasing pain in my lower back. I shifted in a feeble effort to get comfortable to no effect. Even as the sky was overtaken by inky blackness and the temperature had plummeted to sub-arctic, I remained there, lost in thought, unwilling to move.<p>

The shock of his gesture, more-so than the feel of his lips against my skin, had started me wondering about him. Of course, he had already confided in me his committal of intimate acts with a… _like-gendered_… demographic. But the fact that he_ had kissed me_ didn't really send me reeling; I didn't even register it as _gay_ or _queer_ on my radar. In fact, the kiss, to me, showed what his outward demeanor and graceful countenance wouldn't: that Hiei's leaving _had_ affected him; that he _was_ feeling vulnerable despite his best outward attempts at hiding it. In having been allowed that small glimpse beneath the surface, that peek beneath the flawless veneer – never mind having been keen enough to recognize it for what it was – I resolved that I had to do something.

By the time I finally got around to hefting my semi-frozen self from off the rock my back was screaming and my joints creaked and popped stiffly in protest. At that moment in time, I didn't have the slightest clue as to how I could actually help him; I could barely comprehend what had happened. I spent the rest of the night thinking about everything, and when morning came and he was preparing to return to the Human World, I was no nearer to an answer. Our good-bye was painfully cordial. I think the previous night's events had settled awkwardly between us, and really there was no helping that. Still, after he had gone, and despite my growing conviction that I _had to do something_, I was no nearer to knowing what that _something_ was.

It wasn't until several months later, during one of Kurama's follow-up visits with Yomi in Gandara, that I even got an inkling of what it could be.

* * *

><p>It had become a sort of routine between us: Kurama came into Makai for three or so days at a time, every two or three months, to check in with Yomi. Although their relationship wasn't what I would call <em>friendly<em>, exactly, the two were both old and wise enough to know to just let basic civility do its job. Yomi was, of course, an overthrown (sort of) former Lord of Makai. Kurama, despite initially having been blackmailed into acting as one of Yomi's chief military advisors, since his return to Human World after the Makai's political upheaval, had become a sort of Ambassador for the Realms. Each time he would pass through after touching base with Yomi he would find me and I would catch him up with the on-goings in my life and send him on his way with news for Mom and Keiko.

On this particular visit, we found ourselves lounging in one of several rooms that my lovely ancestor's castle housed. Admittedly, in his lifetime, Raizen had kept the place mostly bare and sparsely furnished at best. I wasn't too fond of the stone heap. But with his passing, and since Tourin, like the rest of the one Lord-ruled cities had been liberated with the establishment of Enki's rule, it was all I had left here to remind me of what I was doing in the first place. Hokushin and the other monks had helped me furnish it in a slightly more suitable fashion for my more-or-less-human self, but even so. It was a pretty depressing place. Still, we sat lounged in a pair of arcane armchairs that the monks had found and moved in for me. The stuffing was oozing out of them liberally, and the things had seen better days for sure, but when the only company they entertained was my own, the monks, and on occasion, Kurama, I thought they worked well enough. The dreary Makai daylight filtered through the lone window in the room casting us in a relief print of darkness and shadow.

Though we had had a couple of meetings since that first night, there was still a noticeable tension between us sometimes; if our silence stretched too long or (especially) if I made an off-hand comment about Alaric – Mukuro's stomping ground and Hiei's more-or-less-permanent place of residence. In our first couple of visits _a lot_ of those comments got tossed around – I'll admit a level of stupidity in that regard, because I've never been particularly good with subtleties or, you know, keeping my mouth shut. But normally, Kurama would take it in stride. There would be a subtle shift in his posture, maybe, or a slight hitch in his voice as all the acknowledgement of my slip of the tongue, a telling of the sting Hiei's merest mention still elicited from him. But in minutes he would be himself again, changing the subject effortlessly with some grand gesture and the faintest of laughs.

But this time it was different. He had been telling me about Yomi's growing unrest and his desire for another Tournament to get underway. I responded with the question of if he thought Mukuro would take part in the next Tournament, or if she had since given up hope of being the sole ruler. Added to that, I questioned if, assuming she was in contention for the role, Hiei, as her emissary, would become her right hand. It had been an innocent question, but I saw him tense almost immediately at the mention of the bastard hiyoukai's name. I didn't even have time to stammer out an apology before he replied rigidly, his tone gone ice cold, that he did not know, or particularly care, either way.

Like I said, back when our meetings had first started, I tossed around Hiei's name a lot without giving it much thought. I liked to think I had gotten better about it as time wore on, liked to think I became a bit more tactful, but there you have it. It's not like this was the first time or even the fiftieth time that I had brainlessly mentioned him in Kurama's presence. So his sharp response startled me and all I could do was laugh uneasily as I tried to think of a way to dig the foot out of my mouth this time. Before I could, though, he apologized, saying he hadn't meant to snap at me; it was just late and he had been under a lot of stress lately and was just tired. Then he excused himself, and it happened so fluidly that I let him go without question, wondering seriously, for the second time, what was going on with him.

Later that night, a few hours after he had excused himself, I decided to take a walk around the property. I strolled along what used to be one of Tourin's old borderlines and let my thoughts drift. For the most part, I had put our _encounter_ out of my mind. Aside from some lingering discomfort at the mention of Hiei, Kurama seemed to be doing okay. But tonight's little outburst (or what passed as one for someone like him) had started me wondering again. And as I walked along, kicking rocks and weaving between the trees in the wood line that marked the old boundary of Tourin, I let myself really think back on that night; think about the look in his eyes, the words he said to me before he left. And I _knew _– the realization literally bulldozed me – that I wanted to help him, than I _needed_ to. I knew that I couldn't just continue to stand idly by as he withered away in front of me.

Still, my issue was the same as it had been all that time ago: I was no closer tonight to knowing what I could do for him than I had been back then. I imagined that I could maybe just go kill the little bastard, though that might cause more harm than good. Or maybe I could just seek him out and talk to him about Kurama. I could play the diplomat and hope for reconciliation. But knowing him, that was unlikely and I would be better off attempting to kill him. As I played through the various scenarios that jigged across my mind I came to a gap in the trees, a barren stretch of borderland, and decided the place was as good as any to rest for a bit.

As I stopped to stretch a shadow flickered in my periphery and I turned to inspect the object that had captured my attention. Standing mere meters away with his eyes trained firmly on the vast expanse of land that bordered my inheritance, was Kurama. After a second, in which my initial shock at seeing him subsided, I hurried over to him and called out a rather loud apology for my earlier indiscretion.

Hearing me, he turned slowly, in that usual measured way of his, and as he faced me I stopped cold, feeling my face pale. It's not that he was crying or anything so dramatically _human_, because even in the midst of his obvious turmoil he was too reserved for that. But the grief was evident in his eyes, in the harsh lines of anger that had etched into the smooth skin around his eyes and mouth. I don't think he recognized me at first; probably, he registered the familiarity of his name and turned towards the sound of it. His eyes were clouded with pain and beyond seeing me. Instead, it was like he was staring through me, those jaded orbs soulless and empty. His mouth twisted into a sharp line after a moment of dawning recognition, and it was like he was fighting for the right words to say. After struggling for another long moment he managed to get out a dull "Yuusuke" as all the greeting I would receive.

I jogged the last few feet separating us and came to his side after rousing myself from my shock. As I drew closer to him I felt more than saw him draw into himself, as though my proximity was either painful or repugnant to him. I started to raise a hand, intending to lay it on his shoulder in a reassuring gesture, but thought better of it at the last second and let it drop limply to my side, offering up a rather dull, "Hey, Kurama" instead.

The silence between us was painfully uncomfortable. He just stood there, staring at me with those melancholy eyes of his and I shifted awkwardly beneath his detached gaze. Not having expected the greeting I had received, I stayed quiet, not really sure what to say. The way he just blinked at me, unseeing, was unnerving. I actually debated leaving – he clearly wasn't in the mood for company – and almost left him standing there. I turned to leave after another few uncomfortable moments slipped away between us, intending to leave him alone with his thoughts, figuring that was what he wanted. I _had_ barged in on him rather unexpectedly, after all. But after I had taken a few retreating steps I heard him call after me, drawing me out of the trees and back to his side.

"Yuusuke, please do not feel the need to rush off," he told me. His voice was soft, a breath of wind, and as the words washed over me I found myself nodding dumbly. I wouldn't say that his sentiment was a cry for help; hell, it really wasn't even a request for me to stay. But for as much as he didn't actually say, I sensed the feelings behind the words, knew he had shackled them away somewhere deep inside himself, and that this was the closest he would come to openly admitting that he wanted a friend.

I shrugged my shoulders uneasily, trying to get past the tension still lingering in the air between us, and offered him a sheepish, crooked grin. "I just didn't wanna bug ya, man. I did, uh… stumble in kind of randomly…"

He shook his head slowly and lifted his face to gaze out into the dark sky and I found myself following his gaze. His voice was matter-of-fact when he addressed me. "No worries, Yuusuke. Also, I feel I owe you an apology. It was terribly rude of me to leave how I did this afternoon."

Considering it had been my own stupidity that had prompted the entire debacle, his apology startled me. I started to tell him as much. "What? No! Man – Kurama! It was my own stupid fault for mentioning Hi—" I caught myself just in time to prevent repeating our earlier ordeal and finished with a hasty, "—Sorry…"

To my credit, the disaster I had made out of my own mangled attempt at an apology actually drew a quiet chuckle out of him, and he turned his eyes away from the heavens to fix them again on me. For the first time in months I saw a spark of something buried deep in those emerald depths.

"It's alright, Yuusuke," he assured me softly, the beginnings of a benign smile ticking up the corner of his lips at the horrified foot-in-mouth expression that was no doubt plastered across my face. "I know you meant no harm. His name—" and he is expressly careful to avoid saying it herein, "—has no extraordinary meaning to you, after all."

At this latter point I made it a conscious point to bite my tongue. The truth was that, recently, Hiei's name did elicit some rather _powerful_ emotions of my own. Kurama just wasn't privy to the fact.

My silence drew a long sigh from him, and I'm sure he misinterpreted my lack of acknowledgement to his previous statement. He shook his head again and walked past me towards the wood line. I turned to watch as he stopped in front of a stunningly tall and rather menacing tree. He laid his palm against the trunk and let his face lift skyward as his eyes looked into the dark canopy and lingered on the unseen branches and foliage above for several long minutes.

Fearing he would sink into himself again after the prolonged pause in conversation, I made the choice to break the silence. "Kurama—?"

He sighed again. "You must think me foolish, Yuusuke." He had pulled his gaze away from the vast, dark canopy above him and a harsh sort of laugh followed the words as he rested his forehead, too, against the rough tree. "That I could ever have fallen for _him,_ you must think of me as quite the fool. And certainly, I am a masochist for obliging what I knew – truly I did – was destined to be an unrequited affair."

He fell quiet for a moment, shaking his head as it rested against the tree and I cringed, thinking that surly, that must be painful. Then I heard him take a deep breath as he struggled for composure. More and more, though there is always a thin strand of unwavering control that he reins over his tone, the words as they slipped past his lips wavered. And each successive syllable sounded like it was being ripped from his very soul. It started an aching deep in my own chest as I watched him – a man renowned for his stoic composure and level-head – struggle against collapsing under the weight of all his own long-neglected emotions.

"The worst is not even that I came to love him," he admitted softly, the words barely audible. "However foolish my hope that he would – that he had – come to reciprocate the feeling, I did not doubt that he_ could_. Though he may never come to understand the feeling, it is evident that he is capable of experiencing it when you see how he watches Yukina. The hardest thing is in knowing that he still has the power to affect me like this when I know there is no hope for us."

Again, he fell quiet. I watched as he turned slowly against the tree, never breaking physical contact with it as he leaned his back against it. He had closed his eyes, and in the dark his wildly crimson hair framed his pale face and delicate features beautifully.

I stopped in my thoughts abruptly. _He looked beautiful?_ Where _the fuck_ had _that_ come from? Rubbing my eyes, I blinked several times and considered his still form objectively. He was certainly good-looking. But I hardly had to be _gay_ to acknowledge that simple truth. The swarms of girls that followed him everywhere at school validated the fact pretty well. And yeah, his features were pleasant to look at, even for me. You know, _as compared to Kuwabara_, or something. Still, just the truth – nothing _gay_ about that. Hell, I could even admit he had a decent body. He wasn't bulked-up muscle like me or Kuwabara, but he wasn't fat, or anything. He was lean-built. In shape. Hard not to notice when you trained with him. So, again… just tellin' the truth.

Still, as I continued to watch him, I felt something in my chest stir, something vaguely reminiscent of that grounded feeling I had experienced last time. And no, _damn it_, it _wasn't gay_. But as I stood there staring at him, I knew Hiei had been the fool – not Kurama, as he so feared. No. Hiei had given up a gift, a grand gift, in rejecting the Fox's love. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by him. He did it so wholly and completely, he was so loyal and steadfast. So pure. Well, okay, maybe not _pure_, but… well, you know. And I mean, if demons were as sexually accepting as Kurama revealed, Hiei certainly _had_ overlooked a decent catch. Like I said, Kurama _was_ good-looking. Just _not my type_. But, for a demon?

My mind flashed back to our last conversation and I recalled how he had mentioned Hiei being singularly attracted to the legend surrounding Kurama, the power Youko possessed. I thought about that silver-haired demon, the few times I had seen Kurama in that particular incarnation. He was definitely a scary son-of-a-mother, and I certainly couldn't blame Hiei for being attracted to the power, or alternately, the terror that those golden eyes sparked in one's soul; the sensual promise of those delicately clawed fingers – you know, before they ripped the heart straight out of your chest; or the devilish curl of those luscious lips—

I stopped, panic-y. _ What. The. Fuck_ was going on with me? I shook my head violently, feeling my neck crack angrily. I yelped in pain and stopped to rub it aggressively. And as I calmed down I looked around, bewildered and momentarily lost in my surroundings, to find Kurama just as I had left him (before I lost my damned mind), leaning quietly against the same tree, seemingly at peace. I shook my head again, more slowly this time, still rubbing my neck gingerly, and called out to him, slowly approaching.

At the sound of his name he lifted his chin and opened his eyes. The second those jade orbs met mine my breath caught in my throat. I stopped abruptly, panic-stricken at the sudden, newfound tightness in my pants…

* * *

><p>Recalling that first shocking experience, I stifle a laugh against the back of my hand. Kurama is still soundly asleep beside me and I don't intend to wake him. Wistfully, I do lightly trail a hand over his blanket-clad side, knowing very well the contours of the body beneath the heavy comforter he is curled under. I breathe a sigh, remembering how I had damn near lost my mind that night.<p>

"It's funny, really," I whisper to no one in particular, turning despite this to see if my words would rouse him. But he remains peacefully lost in dreams, and I am still left wondering if I'm the star in them...

* * *

><p><strong><em>Standard Disclaimer Still Applies.<em>**

**_Author's Ramblings:_** I'll admit that this chapter did take longer than I intended to post, but at least it's still in the same month I projected. And I am pleased with it, for the most part. Also, it's looking like it's going to be a longer story than the couple chapters I initially thought. Which makes me happy. Please leave your honest opinions at the door, hm?

_**A few key things to note:  
><strong>_  
>-Starting with the next chapter, the rating will move to <strong>M<strong> for some adult male/male situations. You have been warned, so I don't wanna hear it in the reviews for the next chapter.

-I am looking for an editor and someone to bounce ideas and such regarding the plot off of. Real life has gotten busy and I feel like my Muse needs a friend, if she is to stay around for any continuing length of time. Having said that, if you're interested, please don't mention it in the reviews; PM me or send an line at the e-mail posted on my page. Thank you.


End file.
